Category: Gratitude

On The Ignorance Of Shmoes

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Photo Feb 03, 10 28 49 PM

If you get sober — it’s bound to happen. A shmoe will weigh-in on your recovery.

And, I hope, by then you’ll have grown a thick skin. I hope that you’ll have learned that the only opinion that truly matters — is your own. And, I hope that you’ll have all the tools you need to get past the fact that someone who doesn’t know you or your story — thinks it’s OK to make passive-aggressive judgments about you, your life, and the people who choose to love you.

It’s all part of playing ball.

Though, if you’re wise, being judged will get you thinking. It will beg important questions of you. Like — What is my recovery? Who, beyond myself, has the power to make it legitimate? Anyone? And, how will I thwart attacks from people who just don’t understand?

People who aren’t sober — don’t understand what it means to get sober. They don’t know what it takes. And, they certainly don’t know what it took you. Usually, if they’re still drinking or using, even if they are normal drinkers or recreational drug users, they’re hyper-aware of the fact that you’ve done something they haven’t. Our dark intuition fears what it recognizes. — A highly advanced and amazingly brilliant feature that’s built into our personal self-defense systems. We weigh-in on what threatens us, because it gives us the illusion of dominance and control. — But, don’t be fooled. Erroneous thoughts hide the keys to our power. Which is to say: We can not be harmed by our same-ness — only healed.

One thing that getting sober has afforded me — is the understanding that at no time am I ever completely in control. I fight that assertion, because I am, and always will be — stubborn. But, in many ways, I have become wise. And, in sobriety, I am able to surrender to the judgment of my own mind. I accept that the judgment of others is only a reflection of themselves. I no longer endeavor to define myself for you — it wastes my time. And, I’ve wasted too much time already.

It’s about what I believe. What I know.

And, those of you who sit in judgment will eventually find that, it’s you who are the hot-messes. You’ll put up your armor and insist that the world has been done-to-you, but, I’m here to tell you: That’s just a lie you’re telling yourself. I know better than anyone — we’ve done it to ourselves.

We stay. We have another drink. We do another line. We write pretty lies so that we can read them back to ourselves and pretend they’re true. We wallow in a past that’s done and gone. We relive moments that have lost all their meaning. We create meaning where there is none. And we say it’s unfair when, all along, it’s us who have been standing in the same. exact. place. — I know. I’ve done it.

I’d be a liar if I told you that I don’t judge you too, Shmoe. But, what I say about you between my ears — stays there. I’m a friend of Bill W. — I know about restraint of pen and tongue. But, there will always be an appropriate time for speaking out. For owning our guts. For wearing our skin.

So, throw your words at me. I’ve heard them all before. — I’ve said them all before. My skin is thick. My mind is clear. My heart is sure.

My recovery — it’s mine.

And, Shmoe, there aren’t words you can write, say, or sing that will ever take that away from me.

 

 

 

 

The Conditions of Desire

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Photo Jan 14, 6 47 43 AM

For a time, I misplaced the meaning of desire.

At my worst, drinking and desire became inextricably linked. Back then, I was certain that being wasted was a sure-fire, all-access pass to the things I most longed for in my life — Love. Acceptance. Meaning. But, it didn’t take very long to discover — I was wrong. And, when everything collapsed, I struggled to begin again. Even with a clear head, I had trouble deciphering what it was I really wanted.

Long after getting sober, I found myself wondering why things continued to fall apart. All my desires, even my most deliberate and cognizant ones, lead me astray. And, later, I would learn that — I had completely missed the point.

Gratitude.

Gratitude is the point. Perhaps the most notable of all my epic lessons is that — no matter where I stand in life — there must be gratitude there. It is the cornerstone. Because if we cannot love, at least in part, what we already have — there is no point desiring more. It’s a lesson that took years to learn. I denied it. I fought it. But, I never outran it. In my ungrateful state, I continued to meet disappointment, regret, and tragedy again and again. — Without gratitude, we become bitter and selfish.

The only way to tap into gratitude’s thick, gooey center is — Love. The unconditional kind. — But to know love unconditionally, you first have to tolerate things that are conditional — and it’s painful. But, every Yin will find its Yang.

Once, at the end of a relationship, I was told that we hadn’t made it because I hadn’t loved unconditionally. At the time, I believed I had given everything. Because, in some way, I had — I had given all I had to give. But, the condition of having given enough won’t save a relationship — or anything else for that matter. If love is truly unconditional, there is always more. There must be reciprocity, because — true love returns to itself. Unconditional love is without breaks or cracks. It’s cyclical. In the end, conditions will only breed resentment. And, where resentment grows — gratitude cannot.

Releasing my own conditions, giving of my heart as it beats today, and allowing that exchange to be enough — was a game changer. It made space where I once had none. I learned to adapt. In rewiring my heart for gratitude, I found joy in what little remained. At my rock bottom — it was meager — but it was a start.

There’s a line from an Elliott Smith song that has stuck with me from the moment I first heard it years ago: “You’ll take advantage ’til you think you’re being used. ‘Cause without an enemy, our anger gets confused.” That line continues to define my inner addict. I have to remember, daily, that nothing has been done to me. We do things and we allow things to happen. And, if we listen to our desires — truly listen — we can walk toward or away from anything with ease. Even the booze.

A grateful heart will treasure the scraps it finds in the soot and ashes. Inside my own guarded heart, love picks all my locks. And, when the latches release — it’s me who pushes the doors wide open.

On the other side, I find my desire again. In gratitude, I am shown the good of all my things — my people. Cyclical. Reciprocal. Gratitude is unconditional.

Today, I throw my love to the wind — without its old conditions. And, love sent out with gratitude returns like a boomerang.

So, throw open the doors to your heart. And when your desire returns — let it love you back.

Unconditionally.